


The perfect one

by spinningelectro



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Assassin!Jinwoo, Blood, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Psychological Thriller, Redhair Jinwoo, Student!Seungyoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningelectro/pseuds/spinningelectro
Summary: Jinwoo was wounded and crashed through Seungyoon's window for a hideout. Only that Seungyoon wasn't just an ordinary postgraduate he'd claimed himself to be.





	The perfect one

**Author's Note:**

> My first JinYoon, hope you like it   
> As usual, I'm new, not native and still learning, so I'm open to critics and comments, please. I appreciate it so much <3

Tick, tick, tick.

The clock nearly stroke one o’clock when Seungyoon looked up, blinking the tire from his eyes. He had finished the ninth chapter, and he still had to study around three more for the midterm exam tomorrow. He rubbed his temples and held back a yawn. He’d better get back to his studies.

Well, he’d never got the chance to. Because just seconds later, through the haze of his tired mind, he heard the most discreet creak, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck standing on up as a cool night breeze blew in. Impossible, he could remember closing the window, securing it with a flick of the latch. Swallowing his nerves, Seungyoon almost forgot to breathe, dare he look back, dare he not? The sound of the something dripping drummed on the cold ground, amplifying through his ears, and he could feel the pressure pressed on this wooden floor beneath his feet. What was that flick he heard? Gosh this was unbearably nerve-wrecking.

Gulping down the dread in his throat, Seungyoon turned around and stood, and voiced himself.

“Who’s there?”

There was no one behind him, but that didn’t mean there was no one in the house. Seungyoon left his desk and approached the entrance of his kitchen, imagining himself as the protagonist in some horror movie and was shaking in his slippers for that very stupid reason. _Get it together_ , he encouraged himself, checking around a little bit wouldn’t hurt. Maybe there wasn’t anyone here, maybe it was only his imagination, Seungyoon consulted himself. Nice effort indeed, but so unfortunately, all were shattered when he caught sight of those dark crimson droplets on his floor, dragging from the edge of his window (not fully closed) to his kitchen table.

“Don’t turn around, boy.”

His shoulders jolted as he heard the cold clack behind his back. Didn’t have to be an expert on action movies to know what that sound was, he could immediately feel his feet grew cold and his body went numb as his mind went to a recognition of a trigger pulled. Seungyoon raised both of his hands up where could be seen and straightened up, couldn’t help his voice a bit shaking. “Who’re you?”

The voice continued, a little bit crackling up an unexplainable chuckle, “You don’t need to know me, it’s better that way. Look, I won’t do any harm if you won’t either. I just need shelter, and bandages, if you may.”

The trespasser was strangely… polite, and there was something about the fondness in that voice that urged Seungyoon to turn around, and he did. Shadow couldn’t help covering that smokin’ red hair, and he could still make out the soft but fierce feature on that face. The man was relatively young, lithe in frame, his black outfit helped blending him into the mist of the night. A mask covering the lower half of his face, _shame¸_ because even though Seungyoon could only see glimpse of those eyes, they were sparkling beautifully, alluringly, threateningly, even deadly.

“Have you seen enough?” The shadow asked sarcastically, and raised his pistol, “Didn’t I tell you not to turn around? I can’t spare someone whom had seen my presence, you know?”

The threats in the coldness of his voice shocked him to life, and Seungyoon shook his head continuously, babbling, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. P-please, don’t kill me! You said you need help, right? I-I can help you…”

He barely saw the stranger’s eyes flicking a spark of distrust, but then he sighed, after all what other choice had he got? Seungyoon saw him sliding down to the floor, his shoulders drooped in exhaustion, but still a firm grip around his gun. Seungyoon risked reaching out to turn on the lights on the rest of the room, and he was shocked to see the streak of blood staining the black of his shoulders and his left thigh. “Oh my god you’re bleeding!”

“Shut up,” the man scowled, “And close the window too, keep the lights low and your voice lower.” He bit his lips and loosed his jacket, as well as the garter-belt around his wounded leg, and drew out a small blade and ripped his pants around the bleeding flesh, “Get me some bandages and hot water, and some alcohol too, I know you’ve got some hidden somewhere college boy.”

 _Rude_ , Seungyoon scowled in his mind, daren’t he say it when that person was still holding onto his pistol like that. He rushed around his small apartment, rumbling through drawers and side cupboards, and all that rattles seemed to be testing the other’s patience. Blood was streaming out of his wound and it cost him to lose his consciousness slowly…

“Here’s hot water, I-I don’t have bandages…”

Seungyoon rushed back into the room with a bowl of steaming water and a bottle clamped in his armpit, he soon put both of them own as the man was collapsing. Holding the stranger upright by his shoulders, Seungyoon was frantic, there was a lot of blood and the other was so pale, “H-hey,.. um, don’t.. don’t die on me. I’ve got what you need, we can have cloths for bandages, wh-what should I do..?!”

He tapped gently on the stranger’s smooth cheek a few times, and he blinked, and Seungyoon once again had to marvel at how big those doe eyes were, “Rip your sleeves off, use it as bandages and tie around my upper thigh, above my wound, put pressure on this, stop the bleeding.”

The man was exceptionally sharp and precise despite his presented state, and Seungyoon gave him credit for his professionalism and did as told. He squeezed the cloth around the flesh and the man flinched, his hand bowled into a fist, but his lips were shut and his teeth gritted tightly, not a single groan was heard. Seungyoon gulped, he knew that it was a risky and bold move, but he ripped his pants a bit more, dip his remaining cloth in the hot water and clean away the blood to have a clearer view on his wound; an open hole that was in the size of a finger, a mushy mess of raw flesh mixed in with crimson blood pouring out.

“You’re shot.” He exclaimed.

“You think?” The red-haired recited in annoyance, his sweats were wetting his bangs and he grunted between his teeth, “Ugh… the bullet is still in there…”

“Sounds dangerous,” and he immediately received a death glare from the other, and he looked down, “And this cut on your shoulder too. What have you done anyway…?”

“You shouldn’t know.”

Seungyoon sighed, he knew it was supposed to be better listening to this man, “Can I help you? In any way?” He said, combing a hand through that flaming hair, wet with sweats, ever so dearly, and the man immediately backed up with a scowl of disapproval.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself boy.” He barely had the strength to lift up his hand to brush him off, but those eyes were still as sharp as ever, tilting his head in confusion, questioning, “You’re strange. Others should have thrown me to the cops by now, but not you. You’re frantic by blood but calm in front of a gun, are you crazy?”

It was crazy, how intrigued he was to the stranger’s outlook, his beautiful fierce eyes, and how he was always so blunt with his words. Everything about him seemed raw and wild, it was somehow, partly, _alluring_ , Seungyoon was surprised of himself, “I was taught to help one was hurt. I want to help you, so point that gun at me if you want, shoot me if you dare, I’m gonna help you.”

The red-haired sighed, but Seungyoon got him persuaded, in a way. “What the hell, it’s not like you can be a professional surgeon in two secs and fix this broken artery in my thigh, can you?”

“Ah… um.. that--- I…”

The boy stumbling got him smiling, it was _cute_ , and he shrugged off his own jacket to relieve the stress upon his wounded arm. Glanced down his thigh, he clicked his tongue, ambulance was a no-no, and the intruder doubted his own state of health to be able to operate himself, but as if he had any other choice, “Full lights on, and get me any strong alcohol you have, hurry, I’m telling you twice.” He ordered, shoving Seungyoon away, on his feet and go getting those items while he reached to his pocket and drew out a small tin box. It was his emergency first-aid kit, well, fancy name for a container for two doses of morphine, needles and medical threads. He grabbed a dose of morphine and violently injected, or should he say, _stabbed_ the needle into his veins on his upper thigh, letting out a muffled grunt and throwing his head back in mere pain and shock. Seungyoon returned with an uncapped bottle of shoju, _shoju!!_ Of course, what could he have expected more of a young boy, he slapped himself mentally and grabbed the bottle and chugged on the liquid.

“Do you have any sharp knife? Small tip, if possible.”

Seungyoon got him what he wanted and watched in awe as the red-haired poured half the bottle on his gunshot wound. He received the knife and also sterilized it with the alcohol. Breathing in a deep breath, he held the knife, trying with will power not to be shaky. “Turn around and get me a tweezer before you throw up,” he stated a mere warning before making a cut open into the wound, biting his lips until they were all purplish. Seungyoon avoided looking into that blood-gushing wound and the extending opened flesh, all he could notice was the red-haired’s skin growing paler and paler, and his shoulders shivering vigorously.

“Here,” Seungyoon grabbed the tweezer, yet gave not to the man. Giving the trespasser’s hand a gentle squeeze, Seungyoon eyed the wound carefully, identified the remaining tiny metal pieces deep between the mushy flesh before picking them out. He felt the hand in his jolted, and his heart skipped a beat. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking up, only to receive a stubborn refusal.

Two pieces out and Seungyoon felt like ages had passed. The last piece got stuck in a bit deeper, his tweezer dug in a bit further and Seungyoon had to grit his teeth in his strongest attempt not to bear any more pain when he pulled the final piece out. And not until then did he realize, the stranger’s hand wasn’t moving in his own anymore.

“Hey…!? Hey you..!!” He got frantic, the blood kept gushing out and the red-haired had already closed his eyes. Seungyoon grabbed the stranger by his shoulders and shook him back and forth, but he had already blacked out, and with this much blood loss, he didn’t need to be a surgeon to predict what would happen. “Hey!! Wake up,.. wake up, wake up…”

It was in vain, his veins were pulsing rather weakly. In his own fright, Seungyoon fumbled with the last dose of morphine, and he injected it into the man’s arm, yet no sign of waking up. His eyes were shut, cold sweats dusting his forehead, those beautiful lips were purplish and his skin was going blue. _He was dying…_

Seungyoon couldn’t help it, he chugged on the burning liquid of the remaining shoju bottle. The liquid was sweet of fruit and flaming of alcohol, it was hot inside his mouth and deep down against his throat. Yet as he pressed his lips against the man’s cold, chapped, purplish own, and all that burning shoju poured into the stranger’s mouth, all he could taste now was bitterness.

The man choked, but he pushed his tongue in further, helping the liquid going down. Soon enough the man coughed, his chest jolted and his eyelids fluttered. And just that, a single sign of life from this man, for Seungyoon that was enough to be relieving.

“Stay… Stay with me. Stay with me.”

He squeezed the hand in his own and clutched the man tight by his shoulders before laying him back against the wall. The stranger was only half awake, yet it was a fortune that morphine kicked but didn’t drift him off. Thank goodness the drug was working, because the wound was still gaping, and he knew better off to sew it sealed.

The intruder’s shoulders were shuddering throughout the process, his hands balled into a fist and his teeth gritting on his lips, stubborn enough not to let out a single sound of pain. He huffed short breath, his brows furrowed and those long eyelashes flickering, and momentarily threw his head back in a long, soundless scream. The wound closed up stitch by stitch, blood pooled on his fingers and on the floor and stained his clothing, blood dusted on his pale lips where his teeth was grazing upon. It was all somehow, _fascinating_ to him…

By the time Seungyoon finished with the final stitch, the man’s flaming red hair was already damp with sweat, sticking to both sides of his face and above his eyebrows. He was exhausted and pained, still, luckily the bleeding stopped.

“Quite.. skilled.. for a boy.”

The red-haired smiled, and the gesture was surprisingly gentle and warm, Seungyoon noticed that much before he blacked out for the second time. Swooping him up in his arms, it occurred to him how light the stranger really was. His face and features indicated that he was still young, sleeping like this, the only impression that struck him was a rebellious eighteen-year-old, tops. It was his behavior and attitude, and perhaps what he’d been through, the context of this meeting proved that he was much, much more. Worldly, ambiguous, mature. How intriguing he was…

“Rest well, _Jinwoo_.”

 

***

 


End file.
